


Why Rum and Coke is no Joke

by Kato (WritersCoven)



Series: The Emetophobic Poodle Series [9]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Before I had to reupload everything, Cute, Emetophobic character, Fluffy Ending, Freddie's a good boyfriend, Gay, M/M, Panic Attacks, Poor emetophobic Bri, The best for Bri, This was originally the start of the series, i give up on tags, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 19:10:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19874632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritersCoven/pseuds/Kato
Summary: Nothing was working. Brian wanted to move, to get up and go back to Fred and Rog and Deaky and pretend that everything was okay-- Or maybe he would just leave the party completely. Either way, Brian had to move to do it. It was almost frustrating. He wanted to pry his hands from his ears, force his eyes open, and just get up.But, he couldn’t.~Brian is severely emetophobic. When one of Freddie's parties gets too out of hand, it sends Brian into an almost completely catatonic state.





	Why Rum and Coke is no Joke

**Author's Note:**

> **Heyyo! Honestly, I'm particularly proud of this one. Being SUPER emetophobic myself, I tried to put as much into this as I could. I really hope y'all like it!!**
> 
> **EDIT: This was originally the first in this series before the reupload, and inspired everything that the series has already come to be.**
> 
> **Hey, this part of my little note is new! And it's going to be everywhere for a little while: Your beloved Kato was hacked darlings, multiple times! Her stuff was removed, even her pseud deleted, her passwords repeatedly changed. It's been a mess. Someone wants to shut me down! But we aren't going to let that happen, are we darlings? Nope! So,**   
>  **Enjoy the reupload! Kato out! xoxo**

Nothing was working. Brian wanted to move, to get up and go back to Fred and Rog and Deaky and pretend that everything was okay-- Or maybe he would just leave the party completely. Either way, Brian had to move to do it. It was almost frustrating. He wanted to pry his hands from his ears, force his eyes open, and just get up.

But, he couldn’t.

_Stupid, weak, baby Brian can’t pull himself up from the fucking restroom floor like a grown-ass man._

Luckily, the party was at Fred’s house. Unfortunately, Fred’s house had one restroom that was currently accessible (the other required a trip through Freddie’s bedroom, which required a _very_ personal invite). Brian kept the door locked with his back shoved against it, which seemed to work for the moment, but he knew that eventually someone was going to need in.

_God forbid they--_

His breath hitched. This was all just too much. _Just too fucking much_.

Brian knew that he really shouldn’t have come. There was really no way for this to have _not_ ended badly. He had seen Fred’s parties. He knew them quite well, in fact. It was drink until you dropped, and get high as a kite on the way if you wanted. No way for that to _not_ end poorly for Brian.

In total honesty-- Brian thought he had been doing pretty well. Sure, the crowd was a bit much and the music a little too loud, but he was handling it.

He was fine.

Then one of Freddie’s friends mixed too much rum and coke, and Brian lost it.

That wasn’t his fault, though. He had let his guard down, had let himself relax like Freddie wanted, and look where that had gotten him-- _curled up on the fucking floor like a damn child_.

It started with a sickly burp. Not exactly a gag, but a que to Brian all the same. He needed to get out of the room. This became top priority, and Brian dropped his winning hand and proceeded to flee his poker game in order to do so. That might have worked, had a very drunk Freddie not eagerly called him over. Brian’s anxious hesitation went unnoticed.

He tried excuses. _He needed to use the loo, he’d be right back,_ things like that. It was useless, and he knew it. They didn’t even work on Fred when he was sober. So, with great reluctance, Brian walked over.

Freddie’s friend made a noise akin to a hiccup, and Brian had very timidly asked, “Is he alright?”

Fred waved him off, drunk and distracted. “He’s fine, dear. Now, come have a listen to these words I’ve been working on.”

The music was too loud, and the people somehow even louder. Brian didn’t want to stay in that room-- or near that man-- but Fred was not going to listen, and so Brian stayed.

Honestly, the lyrics were quite good. A little dark, but so were some of Brian’s. He wished he could have stayed for more. _He wished he could get off his damn ass and go hear the rest now, but that seemed very unlikely._

Fred probably hadn’t even gotten past the first verse when Rum-and-Coke finally gave in, coughing and retching violently over Freddie’s undoubtedly expensive rug-- the same rug Brian had been standing on.

Had been.

By some grace of God, none of it actually got on Brian, but that was still enough for him. He didn’t even say a word to Freddie as he fled (not that it mattered-- Freddie was far too concerned about his ruined carpet).

Somehow, Brian found himself in the decent-sized restroom. How he got there, he couldn’t say, but he was there all the same. He had hardly even got the door locked before he felt the fear tightening his chest.

This had been about twenty minutes ago, and Brian still couldn’t move. This wasn’t a panic attack. Brian had had plenty of those, but this wasn’t like anything he had ever had.

He was shivering even though he didn’t feel cold in the slightest-- in fact, he felt quite hot-- and his brain might as well have been trembling too, with how frazzled and far-away it was. His palms were slick with sweat and his stomach cramped painfully, which only served to magnify the situation.

_Dear God please-- Don’t let him get sick, don’t let him get sick, not now, please._

His chest was aching. He needed to uncover his ears and sit up. He needed to get a proper breath and try to calm down. He needed to--

_Somebody wanted in._

Brian felt his heart beat painfully against his ribcage. Everything felt so tight, even inside of him. He needed to get out-- of the bathroom, of the party, of his skin. He needed air.

His vision blurred. Something warm slid over his cheeks. _Christ, was he actually crying? Damn it._

Brian swiped his face with his arm, but it did nothing to dry the tears. With as much effort as he could manage, he forced one hand away and quickly brushed it over his cheeks.

The knob jiggled above him, and Brian was ready to completely curl in on himself. Then a soft voice called, “Bri, love, you in there? Please open up.”

_He knew that voice. He knew that voice. He knew that--_

_Fred!_

If he had had it in him, Brian would have jumped up and flung the door open. He didn’t, though. All he could manage was stretching up to the lock, dragging himself far enough away from the door so as not to be in the way, and resorting to heartbreaking whimpers as Freddie pulled open the door.

“Are you alright dear?” Freddie asked, but when his eyes landed on the other man he hastily knelt down and called, “Love?”

Brian swallowed thickly. He was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he was going to be sick. Saliva had pooled into the back of his mouth in warning of the oncoming storm.

His shivering increased. _God no, please no, God, please, no, no, no…_

“Bri, dear,” Freddie tried again, particularly sobered by the sudden change in events.

He didn’t expect anything short of animalistic groans to come out, shocking even himself as he whimpered, “Sick, Fred.”

Two words, two syllables-- but it was enough.

“Brian, sit up for me,” Freddie commanded.

Tears welled up in Brian’s eyes. “Can’t,” he choked. “Sick.”

“Yes, you can love.” As he said it, Freddie guided Brian up into a sitting position and let the man rest against his chest. With one hand, he pulled back Brian’s black curls so that they were tucked behind his shoulder and with the other he rubbed soothing circles into the man’s stiff back. “Breathe, love. It’s okay.”

“‘S not,” Brian whimpered. His fearful frenzy was nearing a peak.

Fred, however, remained calm. “It is. You’re safe, you’re alright, and everything is fine. You have to calm down, dear. You’re only making yourself worse right now.”

Brian sniffled and forced himself to take a deep breath. It was unsteady, but he did it. This seemed to really please Freddie, who urged Brian to continue with murmurs of “good, good” at every shaking exhale.

The more he breathed, the more relaxed he became. As the tension left his muscles and he fell back into his senses, Brian became increasingly aware of how utterly exhausted he had become. The episode had taken a lot out of him.

Nuzzling his face into Freddie’s neck, Brian let out a sigh that was meant to convey this exhaustion. It did its job far better than words could express.

His stomach had settled back to something more easy for him to handle and he no longer felt sick. He just wanted to curl up and rest now that everything was truly done and past, and the mere idea of returning to the party felt like too much for him.

“Come, love,” Freddie commanded, his tone a welcome blend of authoritative and soft. With both hands, he guided Brian up onto shaky legs and wrapped one strong around this still-trembling friend. “You’ll be much more comfortable in the bedroom.”

Brian’s response was a faint hum of agreement. He felt empty, almost numb, and even forming semi-coherent thoughts seemed to be a task beyond his abilities. He kept his head transfixed on Fred’s floor as they walked, his tired mind counting each set of shoes they passed like sheep. If anyone tried to say anything to him, Fred brushed them aside and Brian never heard them.

At one point, they paused briefly, and Brian heard Fred talking. Everything felt so far away and surreal, like none of this was currently happening around him. It all felt like a dream.

“What’s wrong?” he heard the other voice asking. It was familiar-- and distinct-- but Brian couldn’t place it.

“--Attack maybe? He’s bad, love.”

_Damn it._ He needed to focus harder. He was only catching snippets of conversation.

“Does he need to go home? I can take him.”

“I’m going to put him in my bedroom. He’ll be fine, dear.”

They started moving again. Brian could have looked at the face, but it just felt easier to keep his eyes on the ground.

When they reached Fred’s room, it had to be unlocked with a key. After ushering Brian inside and helping him to the bed, Freddie locked it once more. Brian let his head fall against the pillow while Freddie sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed out Brian’s hair absently. Brian’s eyelids were heavy, and Freddie watched silently as Brian fought to keep them open.

“Rest, love,” he ordered. “You’ve worried Roger and me near to death.”

“I have?” He sounded more coherent, but there wasn’t a part of him that didn’t scream with exhaustion.

Freddie nodded. “He went after you earlier, but you didn’t stop.”

“No, I didn’t.” He didn’t admit that there was no way he could have possibly stopped.

“Rest now. In a bit I’ll bring Roger up.”

Freddie rose from the bed and moved towards the door, but he stopped in the doorway and looked back. Brian had already fallen asleep, his breathing even and his eyes remaining shut. Freddie watched Brian for a moment before he slipped out of the quiet room and back into the party, locking the door on his way out.

Freddie went back to the party but he didn’t return to his party activities. He would have given anything for a shot of vodka and whatever else he could force into his system, but he wasn’t about to do that to Brian. He needed to be there if he was needed, not riding cloud nine. So, Freddie stayed as sober as he could for the night from that point onwards, periodically checking on the sleeping man to make sure that he was okay. It may not have been the ideal way to spend his party, but he did what he had to for his friends.

He did what he had to for his family.

**Author's Note:**

> **Thanks for reading, lovies! I'm thinking of writing a lot more of emetophobic Brian (or other phobias/characters). If y'all have any suggestions or ideas, feel free to ask. I'll see what I can do :)**
> 
> **Hey, this part of my little note is new! And it's going to be everywhere for a little while: Your beloved Kato was hacked darlings, multiple times! Her stuff was removed, even her pseud deleted, her passwords repeatedly changed. It's been a mess. Someone wants to shut me down! But we aren't going to let that happen, are we darlings? Nope! So,**   
>  **Enjoy the reupload! Kato out! xoxo**


End file.
